Laments of the N00b Follower
by Nymbis
Summary: Murray has had it. He’s tired of being overlooked and generally ignored. So what’s an aspiring, angstridden Follower to do? Why, brood and write in a diary of course!


_Laments of the Noob Follower_

_Summary: _Murray has had it. He's tired of being overlooked and generally ignored. So what's an inspiring, angst-ridden, Follower in training to do? Why, brood and write in a diary of course!

**AN: **wanted to write this. Please don't ask me why. Why does it take place in July, you ask? Dunno. Felt right, I guess.

_Disclaimer: _I do not own the various things mentioned in this. Haha! Try to get me on that one.

_Wednesday, July 23_

Dear Bound Notebook That is Most Certainly **NOT **a Diary-

Karyl, Tymmie, and Kelly all pitched in to buy me this bound notebook that is in no way, shape, or form a diary for my birthday. The card that was inside had a kitten on it. I hate cats.

The message on the card said, "Happy 63rd birthday dorkwad. Now you finally have something to complain to. Love The Followers That Live In Stanton's Mediocre Apartment." In hot pink gel pen with sparkles in the ink.

They bought me a cake. A strawberry cake with vanilla frosting. I hate cake. And strawberries. And consequentially strawberry cakes with vanilla frosting. There were trick candles on it. Those bitches.

I think that they're insulting my masculinity. It was the kitten card that gave me the first heads-up. That and the fact that the notebook they bought me is a hardcover, periwinkle journal with a unicorn jumping over a moon with _"My Dreams…" _in a spirally font over the top.

I feel the inexplicable urge to burn things all of a sudden.

_Friday, July 25_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Today I lifted my hand up in an attempt to give Tymmie a high-five for his mad Follower skillz. My hand was ignored, I was given no props.

I hate them all.

_Saturday, July 26_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Stanton made me switch rooms with Kelly today, as she was recently bitching about how her room was too small for all of her various, color-coordinated outfits. Stanton, noticing how I seem to wear the same 50s clothes everyday, took it upon himself to move all my stuff into her old room so she can get the room with the balcony. What does a balcony have to do with closet space! Answer _that _one for me, oh-so wise Prince of the Night! Bastard.

The pink ponies Kelly painted on the walls are staring at me- I think they're mocking me.

Stupid ponies.

Although…they go along perfectly with the sparkly canopy princess bed Kelly departed to me before she took my room with the balcony.

That was sarcasm. I felt the need to clarify, as you cannot hear my sarcastic tone of voice by reading.

_Monday, July 28_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Karyl asked me if I wanted to play hide and seek with him and Tymmie.

No one came to find me.

_Wednesday July 31_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Today I accidentally shattered a ceramic vase that was in the living room. Two black eyes later, I discovered that Tymmie collects priceless ceramic art and that was a rare T'ang Dynasty sculpture. He responded by flushing all of my hair grease and plastic black combs down the toilet.

It was a stupid looking vase anyway. I'm glad it's broken.

You know what, I think I might want to break another ceramic of his, just out of spite…

_Wednesday July 31, ten minutes later_

That was a very, very bad idea. A few moments after I broke the vase, Tymmie set fire to all of my Waylan Jennings albums. Bastard. Now not only does my room have pink ponies, but smells of burning vinyl. Note to self: Don't fuck with Tymmie's pottery.

_Saturday August 3_

Dear Bound Notebook-

We all went to The Dungeon tonight, it was all right until everyone got drunk and decided to play "Pin-the-tail-on-the-James-Dean". Then it sucked and made me full of hate. I have set aside three hours today to angst about how everyone only knows me as the James Dean look-a-like. It shall begin after the newest episode of _Desperate Housewives. _

_Sunday August 4_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Stanton decided to be a smartass and make his lackeys do a musical rendition of the movie _Grease _with me playing the role of Sandy. I was not amused. Especially since Karyl was my love interest.

On the plus side, Kelly ate some of the strawberry birthday cake that has been left on the counter since my birthday. She now has food poisoning. I take a sadistic glee out of this, especially after I told her the amount of calories that was in that slice of cake. Ha! Serves her right, her and her _stupid _pink ponies.

_Friday August 9_

Dear Bound Notebook-

I woke up this morning and discovered that someone had the ingenious notion to place my fingers in a cup of hot water while I slept. Now my sheets are soiled. Great. I bet it was Kelly. I hate Kelly.

Tymmie decided to become a poet all of a sudden and forced us all to listen to his version of _Beowolf, _which he pronounced B.O. wolf. What an idiot. He was about to start reading _The Iliad_ before Karyl shattered the only other T'ang Dynasty piece Tymmie had in his collection. Tymmie then proceeded to beat Karyl over the head with his copy of _The Iliad._

I live with children. Absolute children.

Stanton mentioned something about purchasing a 'Nintendo.' I wonder what that is.

_Monday August 12_

Dear Bound Notebook-

I managed a moment to write this as the next level loads.

I can't sleep, I can't eat. All I can do is stare at the screen and try to get to the next level of _The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time_. Curse the day Stanton bought that wretched game system! Now I hear these strange songs in the recesses of my mind. Must continue playing…must beat The Fire Temple…

My thumbs hurt, but pain is such a small price to pay when saving the free world.

_Tuesday August 13_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Stanton forgot to pay the electric bill, so no longer can I play Nintendo. I feel a deep, gaping void inside of me.

I must go angst again in some remote dark corner. Or watch a movie. Probably the first one. There just aren't any good movies out nowadays.

_Thursday August 15_

Dear Bound Notebook-

Cassandra came over to visit today, and she brought Monopoly. We decided to play it by candlelight as Stanton has still not paid the electric bill. I had to be the shoe. I abhor being the shoe. I wanted to be the racecar, but _no_ Tymmie got to be the racecar. I abhor Tymmie. I like the word abhor, however.

Cassandra won. But she cheated. She brought extra Monopoly money in her tacky little purse. So I tricked her into eating the rest of the strawberry birthday cake. No one cheats at Monopoly when I'm playing. Damn, I'm good.

Cassandra then brought out _Dance, Dance Revolution. _We were thankful our cable was out.

_Friday August 16_

Dear Bound Notebook-

I'm afraid this will have to be my final entry, Karyl found this at the bottom of my sock drawer and threatened to tell Cassandra I made her eat rotten birthday cake. And though I loath to admit it, I am deathly afraid of Cassandra.

I suppose this is the time to reflect on how I've grown and matured as a person over the last couple of days. But that's not true. I still hate everyone and everything, except _Desperate Housewives, _Waylan Jennings, and _The Legend of Zelda._

Now if you'll excuse me, bound notebook, I have an appointment to make with a certain Follower's collection of retired Beanie Babies and a lighter. Shows Karyl right for going through my stuff.

Love,

Murray.


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